


The One That Got Away

by rowaelinsmut



Category: Throne of Glass Series - Sarah J. Maas
Genre: Angst, Canon Compliant, Character Death, Demons, F/M, Heavy Angst, Post-Canon, War
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-09
Updated: 2018-07-09
Packaged: 2019-06-07 15:22:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,485
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15222074
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rowaelinsmut/pseuds/rowaelinsmut
Summary: Lorcan makes a desperate attempt to save Elide from Erawan.





	The One That Got Away

Lorcan desperately tracked her scent across the bloody, demon infested battlefield. There was no way the male was leaving her on her own. The girl had argued that she had to do her duty to her queendom, so here she was. Present - but currently lost - on the burning wastes that were being assaulted by witches, wyverns and demons; all-infuriating and stealing Lorcan’s focus from the bloodshed before him.

It was too dangerous to lose his concentration and she was too inexperienced to be alone.

He couldn’t watch her die. Lorcan wouldn’t survive it. Every excruciating moment they were separated, Lorcan’s panic increased ten-fold.

He scanned the hazy fields, nostrils flaring as he caught her scent once more. Her name clanged through his mind: a mantra, a prayer. A plea for her safety to whatever god was listening.

Elide. Elide. Elide.

This bloodshed was not the place for her. Her rutting, gods damned Queen could fight her own battles but Lorcan wanted - no needed - to get Elide out. No matter the consequences or how many creatures he would slaughter should they cross his path.

These feelings, so unfamiliar to him, drove him near feral as he trailed her scent of cinnamon and elderberries, tinged with sweat. Not fear, though. No, whatever Elide was doing, she intended to succeed or die trying. She was not a coward and Lorcan didn’t care if it made him one to chase her down and remove her from harm’s way.

He would do anything for her.

Soon, he was edging near the Valg King’s war camp and Lorcan just knew. Knew what she had tried to do. Knew exactly where she was. Elide thought she could be a willing and worthy sacrifice, to give her Queen an edge on the field. To distract Erawan.

Lorcan snarled, his wrath sweeping across the field at the same time his dark power did.

Witches fell in that wave of death but it wasn’t enough to stop the ilken.

He unsheathed his weapons and stalked through the camp, no longer keeping his presence a secret, no longer hiding in the shadows. A part of announcing his arrival was strategic; hoping that he could distract Erawan and his ilk long enough to prevent whatever might be happening to Elide while she was in his clutches.

Lorcan crested over the hill that sprawling black tent was erected upon and the remaining witches standing guard whirled on him, baring their iron teeth and claws. Lorcan barely spared half a thought as he felled them with his dark power.

Where the witches fell, they did not rise.

All too soon, theilken were there in droves to take the Ironteeth bitches places. Lorcan gave a feral grin, letting the killing calm wash over him. Thank Hellas for the dark power prowling under his skin. It made death and destruction that much easier for him. That much more enjoyable.

The ilken descended upon him in packs of three. Lorcan’s wrath took him to a place where only calculated moves and countermoves made sense. Every slash of his sword was but a muffled clang and only when he was surrounded with bodies without heads and covered head to toe in black blood did he breathe and see beyond his rage to that lovely girl just out of reach.

The way to the tent was clear and he followed that glorious cinnamon and elderberries scent through the heavy flaps shielding what waited beyond.

And there she was. Held up between two of the ilken, blood trickling down her face from a wound to her forehead, hair messed as though she’d been drug around by it.

There was a third demon behind her, holding a whip that was slick with red blood. Her blood.

It grinned ferally at Lorcan before raising the dripping whip to its mouth and licking Elide’s blood off.

It was the last action the demon ever made as Lorcan’s sword went flying and severed its head with a gurgle and spurt of blood.

Lorcan stalked towards the other demons, doing his best not the let the coppery tang of Elide’s blood filling his nose deter him from the death that Hellas desired, that Lorcan himself desired.

Those cunning and beautiful eyes were wide, the scent of her fear palpable as the ilken dropped their hold on her and she slid to the ground, a rattling sob ripping from her throat.

Lorcan drew his daggers from either hip and met the ilken in the middle. His dark power froze them in place before they could begin to extend their claws towards him and, in another breath, they were dead.

Finally, Lorcan dropped to his knees before Elide, strapping his daggers to his side and gathering her sobbing, small form into his embrace.

“Elide, Elide, Elide.” He whispered her name like a prayer. “I’ve got you.”

“I thought I could help-”

“Shhh, you’re safe. I’m here. But we have to go.”

“Now why should I let the cunning little thief go?” a cold voice mused from behind Lorcan.

Lorcan immediately released Elide, shielding her from the impossibly beautiful man who had appeared.

“Erawan,” Lorcan sneered, already palming his daggers.

The golden haired man before him sketched a mocking bow. “I do not believe I’ve had the pleasure, but I make it my business to know my enemies, Lorcan.”

Lorcan refused to answer, mind racing as he considered possible escape routes.

“There is no happy ending here. I only promise death.”

Lorcan snarled, panic rising. Elide was silent behind him. Perhaps, if he could get her out… just her. Buy her that time…

Erawan cocked his head to see Elide around Lorcan’s trembling body. “You took something from me, little witch. Because of you, I have lost much since your departure from Morath. You are a prize I did not expect to receive today. The one that got away.”

“Let her go.”

Erawan’s golden eyes flickered over Lorcan’s harsh features, weighing the options before him.

“Tell me, Lorcan Salvaterre, what her life is worth to you.”

Lorcan swallowed as Elide let out a choking gasp, realising what he intended to do.

“She’s worth everything to me. Let her go,” he repeated. He tried to ignore the feeble tugging on his cloak as she rose to her feet behind him, tried not to hear her begging him not do this.

“Why would I want a disgraced and dishonourable half breed like yourself?”

Lorcan couldn’t answer. He was worth nothing. Compared to Elide, he was a dark stain again her bright canvas of life. A part of him had always known he would never be worth her time, her attention. It was better this way. She was better this way.

“I don’t know. Please.” Lorcan’s voice choked on the word. He had never begged for a thing in his life. Never.

Erawan’s considering gaze settled heavily on Lorcan, as if truly balancing Elide’s life against Lorcan’s own and testing whose was worth more to him.

Erawan smiled, a cold, cruel and ancient smile before he said, “no.” He then waved two more ilken forward from the shadows behind him, already holding whips of their own. Lorcan’s eyes widened, fear blinding him.

Elide, beautiful, strong and wonderful Elide, didn’t flinch behind him. She knew this was a possibility.

But before the whip could be raised, either to strike him or Elide, Lorcan had thrown his sword, embedding it in one of the demon’s heads. It wouldn’t keep it down, but it would buy him time.

Erawan laughed, delighting in the mortal concept of dying for love.

Because that was why Lorcan was doing this. For love.

For Elide.

“RUN,” he roared, throwing a last look at the woman he loved, hoping he could convey everything he felt for her in that one moment.

Elide understood as his dark magic wrapped around her ankle to create a brace.

“I love you,” she sobbed before Lorcan spun to take down the last ilken with two efficient slashes of his daggers across its throat, decapitating the demon. He could only hear as she sprinted unevenly towards the exit, unable to spare a last look because Erawan had finally joined the fray.

Lorcan felt that spear of his magic return to him, meaning Elide had raced passed the bounds of where his magic could still reach her.

Safe. She was safe.

And Lorcan could die.

He sent a last spear of power out, one only Whitethorn would understand as a plea to ensure Elide’s continued safety after he was gone and then he faced the Valg King before him, an embrace from Hellas already welcoming Lorcan and the gift of his power home.

Erawan descended upon him and his last thought was not of the pain or the darkness.

It was of her. Of Elide.

And Lorcan died with a smile and a whisper of her name on his lips.


End file.
